Whispers in the Dark
by CDV10
Summary: He shines as Chris Jericho, but when the show ends, Chris Irvine finds that life isn't so easy.
1. In the dark

When the lights came on, he came on. Chris Jericho, premiere athlete and showman, one of the best in his craft, a shoo-in Hall of Famer when the day came, perhaps one of the greatest of all time... it was a role he was born to play, his niche in life. Everyone loved him and respected him. The lights would shine, and he would shine along with them.

But when the lights went down, so did he. He would lose his aura, lose that special something that pushed him across the unperceivable boundary that suddenly transformed him into Chris Jericho. The lights went down, and he became… ordinary. Another guy traveling for his job. Married for seven and a half years. Three kids to show. He was Chris Jericho without the electricity that made him shine. He was just…Chris Irvine.

There were no lights that shined here.

He lowered his baseball cap over his eyes, waiting. He was calm to the world, almost unperceivable as he waited. But the world didn't know much about the man behind Chris Jericho; all they had was his book to go on, not realizing that he stopped it where he did for a reason. There were some things that the fans just didn't have to know.

There were things that no one had to know.

He watched the last ring crew member that was at the arena get his things together as he prepared to leave. Chris checked his watch. Five more minutes. He took a deep and steadying breath as he continued to wait. Waiting was always the hardest part for him. Time had a nasty tendency to drag. Make him think about his life. What he was doing. Right and wrong. People he was hurting. Decisions made up until this point. Promises made. More broken than kept.

He was caught in a cycle that he couldn't stop, and that was his own fault. He knew that very well, and he felt bad, of course. He wasn't a complete asshole. He felt remorse, but not enough remorse to make him turn around and leave the darkened arena. So he stayed and watched the last lights go out, knowing he was just digging his hole deeper and deeper. He didn't care though. He was content to let the darkness wash his doubts away.

When the ring crew member disappeared through a side exit that led to the parking lot, a wave of loneliness washed over Chris. He supposed that being in an empty arena that was meant to seat tens of thousands of people could have that effect on a man. He knew it was only a temporary feeling and that it would soon be gone with all the rest of his thoughts and inhibitions. He hated the feeling anyways, but it came with the territory.

He could feel her nearby before he could see or hear her. That was how uncanny their relationship had become. They weren't friends, they weren't even acquaintances; if they saw each other in the hallway, there was a courteous nod maybe, if anything. A polite exchange if her family or Paul was nearby, for appearances. But whether he acknowledged her or not, he always felt her presence.

He slowly sat down on the steps that he had been standing on, steps that led up to the nosebleed section of the arena. It was completely dark this high up. The fans had left hours ago. No one was there, except him, and one lonely worker who was probably deciding what CD to play on the ride home that very moment. The lights to the rest of the arena, for the lower seating sections and the area that had housed a wrestling ring only a few hours ago, those lights were dimmed. The doors were probably locked by now.

Good thing he had connections.

He could hear the clicking of her heels now. It was close. It was close… and then the sound stopped. Chris kept his eyes down when they did, his ball cap hanging down over his eyes.

If the world could only see him now.

He felt her tilt his head back and remove his cap. He looked up, catching just a glint of light off her bluish gray eyes. It drew him in and made him slowly stand while she tossed his hat to the side. He closed the distance between them, feeling the heat rising between them and inside of him.

No words. They weren't needed; they had never been needed between them.

He reached out to her and drew her close to him, his mouth seeking out hers, her breath already mixing with his before he could even register it. He asserted his control with his kiss, reaching up with his other hand so he could cup her face and deepen their kiss. She moaned into his kiss, and the sound was so familiar to him, but it aroused him anyways just like it always did. She pulled him even closer to her by his t-shirt, lifting it up and making him let go of her momentarily to pull it completely off before resuming… whatever this was between them.

It wouldn't matter tomorrow. They were both married. They both had children. She was his boss's daughter. He was her husband's archrival. It was never going to go anywhere further than this. They both took comfort in that as he lowered them to the floor right where they were. Physical. It was all physical. Everyone has needs. Chris and Stephanie just got creative in how they met theirs.

He moved so he was on his back, even though he knew this was going to make him sore as hell tomorrow, and they had a show to work. He didn't care though. Just like he didn't care that his wedding ring was still on his hand, the same hand that was groping her breasts through her blouse, breasts that did not belong to the woman he had vowed to love and protect. She didn't seem to care either that her own wedding band was on the hand that was busy unhooking his belt from his cargo pants. He fisted some of her hair as she took control of the kiss. The turning point. The belt gone and to the side. She was in control now as she slipped her hand down his boxers.

This was wrong, it was very wrong, but damn, did it feel good. He groaned and rested his head back on the concrete as she slowly trailed her tongue down his body.

His wife, his wife, what about his wife?

As soon as that thought came to mind though, all the fights came to mind too. She didn't like that he traveled. He didn't like the way she was raising his kids. She had shouted back that maybe he should be helping her raise them. Like he didn't fucking know that already, he thought bitterly. He did his part. He did the best he could. If there were any people he did right by, it was those kids. She had no grounds to call him a deadbeat father like she had insinuated he was.

His eyes rolled back into his head and thoughts of his wife disappeared as Stephanie's tongue finally found him. She made him feel so good, just like she always did.

So what if this was wrong, it felt right to him, and no one could judge him, not his wife, not his family, not anyone. He was a human being. He wasn't perfect and he had never claimed to be. He wasn't forcing Stephanie to do anything against her will. Both of them led their own lives and they never crossed paths otherwise; sure, they had in the beginning, but that was a long time ago. It didn't matter… it didn't matter… he closed his eyes and couldn't think of anything else except the heat of Stephanie's mouth.

He didn't even know her story. Part of him wanted to know what drove her here to him every week. Part of him didn't care to know the reasons. He assumed it was something back home with Paul, maybe something along the lines of his own reasons with Jessica.

She never told him though, and he never asked.

He lifted her back up towards him, pulling off her blouse expertly in the process before unhooking her bra. They resumed their kissing, their tongues both conceding to each other, the power battle done for now as he roamed his hands down her back. Her skin was so smooth and so addicting, he would probably remember the touch for the rest of his life, even if they never did this again. Jessica never satisfied him like Stephanie could. Maybe his reasons all boiled down to that. He didn't know, nor did he care as he slowly turned them over so he was on top again.

He was just lowering her dress pants as his phone rang. He looked around almost drunkenly, his breathing heavy, but Stephanie reached up to him and pulled him closer to her, her arm wrapping around his neck and shoulders as he gave in to her, the heat of their skin together making them both groan. He kissed her exposed neck as she held him to her, both of them feeling and needing the other. It was fairly intimate; perhaps more intimate than either of them cared for as he finally reached down and clumsily tugged at her pants.

The phone rang in the background, lost, forgotten on the floor somewhere in the darkness as it kicked into his voicemail. Stephanie let him go long enough for him to tug her pants and panties down, both of them knowing who was likely on the other end, but neither of them caring. It was just them, only they existed for that night in the dark arena, only them.

She reached up to him and he was suddenly distinctly aware of her wedding ring, but that didn't stop him. He wasn't turning back now, he needed her now, he couldn't turn back unless of course she wanted him to… but by the looks of things, she didn't want that. She was moaning now as he rocked against her, while he watched her, mesmerized by her. Why the hell couldn't it be like this with his wife?

She was beautiful in the dim light, sweaty and hot for him and only for him. He reached down to her with his left hand, his thumb grazing over her top lip as she arched up against him to feel more of him. He lowered his thumb and she opened her mouth, sucking on it as his phone went off again. He groaned, partly because of his wife's persistence, but also in part due to Stephanie sucking his fingers so expertly. She pulled him towards her again, and he was only vaguely aware of her removing his wedding ring from his hand. He was too drunk with lust to notice as he continued setting their pace.

The third time his cell phone went off, though, he could feel her tense beneath him.

"Chris…"

"Shhh," he said, his now ring-free hand moving down to her breasts again as he kissed her neck. That was the first time she had said his name during one of these… meetings… in as long as he could remember. He didn't particularly like the raw intimacy with which she said his name. Likewise, he didn't like how this whole thing had an air of intimacy about it. But he just wanted to reassure her; that was the only thing that mattered right then, just reassurance. He didn't know why he felt the need to do so, but he did. "It's alright," he whispered to her as he slowed his pace down a little, wanting to make it last.

But it wasn't alright. They both knew that it wasn't. Hiding in the dark, sneaking in the shadows, a distinguished business woman, a world-renowned professional athlete. It would be better if they had no one else, if they were both alone in the world, but they weren't. They had jobs. Responsibilities. Things and people that depended on them.

And what were they doing?

They were on the floor like teenagers. Needing each other like they shouldn't. Touching where they shouldn't. But this wasn't new to either of them. This had been the routine the last three years Chris had been in the company before his hiatus. This had been the routine since his return. How it started, they both remembered well, but didn't talk much about it. After all, there wasn't anything to say about it now. The present result of what their relationship had become spoke for itself.

He leaned down and kissed her again, the control back in his kiss as he asserted himself that way while she touched him everywhere. Yes, it was too good for either of them to think much about how and where it would end, even though deep down they both knew it had to. It would eventually come in its own due time.

They just didn't know how short that due time would turn out to be.


	2. Home

"Where the hell have you been!"

Chris groaned as he saw his wife standing in the doorway to their house, no doubt having stayed up waiting for him to come home. Such were the drawbacks to having the show in his hometown. He probably should've answered the phone, he thought silently to himself, if only to avoid this confrontation. Another night, another fight, same old bullshit to him. It did get old, though, and he just wanted to sleep before he had to get up and go back to work.

"It is Monday night," he answered, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he brushed past her and walked into the house, not even giving her a second look. "We have this show we do every Monday night, I don't know, you might have heard of it."

Jessica closed the door quietly so as not to wake the kids upstairs, and then turned to her husband who dumped his duffel bag on the sofa. Chris then plopped down in the armchair next to the sofa, letting out a deep breath. He was exhausted, and the show wasn't the only reason why.

"The show was over five hours ago, Chris," Jessica seethed, her voice lowered.

Chris leaned his head back against the headpiece of and closed his eyes. This was getting to be too routine for his liking. Her tone was a very familiar one; he knew what was coming next.

"I called you _six _fucking times," she hissed, "and you didn't -"

"I just saw the fucking messages when I was getting in the car, I had the phone on vibrate, fuck, Jessica, give me a goddamned break," Chris shot back, getting up and angrily walking into the kitchen, away from his wife. He was angry now, and truth be told, he didn't want anything to do with her at the moment. He didn't even know where all his anger was coming from, but it was brimming up inside of him and he couldn't stop it.

Jessica was right on his heels though, a different kind of anger flaring up inside of her as she glared at the back of his head. Chris turned on the lights to the kitchen and walked over to the fridge, with her right behind him.

"Give _you _a break?" she asked disbelievingly, disgust mixed into her voice. Yes, at that moment, she was filled with disgust for her husband. "Give _you _a fucking break? Yeah, that's fucking rich, Chris."

"Whatever, Jess, I'm not going to argue with you tonight," he muttered, looking through the fridge. "Where the fuck are the water bottles I bought over the weekend?" he asked in annoyance.

"What am I now, your fucking maid," she snapped.

Chris slammed the fridge door so hard, the whole fridge shook as he turned to look at his wife.

The breaking point.

"What's your fucking problem?" he asked, his voice low and controlled but his blue eyes simmering with anger.

"It's four in the morning," she answered, her eyes matching his with anger and intensity. But there was something else there.

Accusation.

For a moment, he couldn't speak.

Did she know?

How?

His infamously quick thinking and tongue were failing him. The silence that hung in the kitchen was suffocating as Jessica and Chris stared at each other, her eyes questioning him, his eyes searching hers and wondering what she knew.

"Is there something you want to ask me?" he finally said, his voice lowered, his heartbeat ringing in his ears. It was so loud, he wondered if she could hear it.

She couldn't know the truth. If she knew he was sleeping with another woman, she would undoubtedly take his kids and leave him. Divorce would be right around the corner. Half his money would be gone. The news would hit the internet like a hurricane. Questions would pop up.

And eventually, Stephanie's name would too.

The thought made his mouth run dry as he tried to keep his cool. Perhaps Jessica didn't know. Maybe he was simply jumping to conclusions.

Jessica broke their eye contact first, looking up briefly at the ceiling and missing her husband visibly tense as he watched her. She took a deep breath, not wanting to yell and wake their kids, because her entire being wanted to yell at him right then.

"You know, I'm here, all the time, watching _your_ kids -"

"Oh, now they're _my _kids," Chris scoffed, his entire body relaxing. She didn't know, he was sure of it now. He was relieved, having never thought he'd actually be grateful to hear the start of another fight with his wife.

"The least you could do is answer your phone and say you're staying out the whole fucking night," Jessica seethed as he rolled his eyes.

"Look, I told you not to wait up for me, so don't bitch and complain to me now, okay? I told you to go to bed because I would be late."

"It's four o'clock in the morning!"

"I have a fucking watch, I know what time it is!" he snapped. "I told you I would be out late, I figured you and the kids would be asleep -"

"Oh, now you're thinking of us," Jessica answered sarcastically, her hands on her hips. "Don't give me your bullshit, Chris Irvine, you're not thinking of anyone but yourself."

"I work hard," he stated, "I deserve -"

"You deserve what? A night out drinking with your friends? Is that what you're trying to tell me, that because you earn a fucking paycheck, you can do whatever the fuck you want? I hate to break it to you, Chris, but you're married and you're a father-"

"I know what I am, okay, I don't need you or anybody to remind me," he told her bitterly. "Why are you making this such a big deal?"

"Because I'm tired of chasing after you, that's why, because I'm tired of you not fucking being here like you should be, and -"

"I am here!" he snapped, exasperated and completely frustrated. "Where the fuck am I right now? I'm here, I'm home, with you, what do you want from me?"

"Would it fucking kill you to answer your phone?"

"I told you, I didn't get the messages -"

"You are so full of shit," she said, forcing a bitter laugh as she shook her head disbelievingly. "You never go anywhere without your phone."

"Fine, believe whatever the fuck you want," he said, giving up. It was pointless tonight, just like it had been pointless the night before, and the night before that. "I'm done arguing with you."

"What is _wrong _with you?" she asked, completely bewildered by him. Her sudden change in tone made something in his chest ache.

"Nothing," he answered gruffly, ignoring the guilt raging through his body, "I'm just tired, and I would like to get some rest before I have to catch the flight tomorrow to the next show. Is that okay with you?" he asked sarcastically.

"Sure, so long as you pick up some more cereal for Ash before you go, since he's out."

"Why didn't…" his voice suddenly trailed.

"Why didn't what? Why didn't I call you tonight?" she asked him bitterly. "I did, six times. Maybe next time you can take a break from your friends to actually do something for your son."

"Don't do that," he warned her, his eyes ice cold, "don't start with that bullshit."

"What bullshit, it's the truth."

"I do plenty for my kids, everything I fucking do is for my kids, don't even go there because you're going to really piss me off."

"Whatever, Chris," she said dismissively. "Just get his cereal so he can have breakfast. Do you even know what his favorite cereal is?"

"Jessica," he stated, glaring at her. It was one thing for her to criticize him as a husband, but as a father, he put nothing before his kids. He was kicking himself for not even bothering to return her phone calls on the drive back home, but he had just figured she would just hound him about where he was. That was his mistake, and one he didn't plan on making again.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "You're not around enough, how should I know what you do or don't know about your son?"

"I know plenty about him, I'm his father!"

"Then act like one!"

"Daddy?"

The tension immediately left the room as Chris and Jessica both turned to see their five-year-old son standing at the entrance of the kitchen. He was wearing a black Chris Jericho t-shirt that was faded from being worn so much, along with some Batman pajama pants that were a little too long on him and draped over his bare feet. His white blond hair was messy and falling into his sleepy blue eyes as he looked at his parents.

"Hey champ," Chris said brightly, going over to his son who was rubbing his eyes.

"Daddy, why are you yelling?" Ash asked, his voice a little hoarse from sleeping.

"I wasn't yelling, me and Mommy were just talking, that's all," Chris said kindly, not even acknowledging his wife anymore as he slowly scooped his son up into his arms. Ash immediately rested his head on his father's shoulder as Chris rubbed his back. "Come on, let's go back to bed."

"Talking about me?" Ash asked tiredly, trying to stay awake even though his eyes felt very heavy.

"A little, just about how you're out of cereal," Chris whispered to him as he carried him up the stairs. "I'll get you some more first thing tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," Ash answered sleepily, feeling secure in his dad's arms. He yawned and closed his eyes as Chris went into his bedroom. There were toys scattered everywhere, which made him roll his eyes. Jessica never made Ash pick up after himself, even though he was old enough to. It's not like Chris wanted his son out mowing the lawn at five, but it wouldn't hurt to start making him at least pick up his own toys each night.

Just one of the many things they disagreed on, it seemed.

Chris laid Ash down gently on his bed, watching as his little boy settled himself in, turning so he was lying on his side. Chris sat down on the edge of the bed and raised the blankets so they were nestled around his son, who yawned again.

"Daddy?" Ash whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you and Mommy always fighting?"

Chris winced. This is what he didn't want.

"Well… it's just something that happens sometimes. You know how sometimes, you get really mad at your sisters?"

"Yeah."

"But you still love them, right?"

"Yeah," Ash answered sleepily.

"Well, sometimes people get mad at other people, but that doesn't mean they don't love each other," Chris said gently, rubbing his son's arm. "It's just a phase, do you know what a phase is?"

"Like a lunar phase, like we learned in school," Ash said, his words coming out slower now. Chris tilted his head as he looked at him. He would be out in a few minutes, tops.

"Yeah, that's definitely a phase, but people go through phases too… it's just something that's temporary, it'll go away. Mommy and me fight right now over adult things, but it'll go away soon, and then you won't even remember it."

"Oh," Ash said, his eyes closed now.

"Yeah, we both love you and your sisters very much, so we'll make it go away soon," Chris said, leaning down and kissing Ash on the cheek. "Good night, Ash, get some sleep."

He didn't get an answer though. Chris sighed as he looked at his sleeping son, reaching over to brush some hair out of the boy's face. He watched him a moment longer before turning away, resting his head in his hands, his elbows propped on his knees.

When did his life get so complicated?

One reason he was still with Jessica was the five-year-old lying asleep behind him. The other two reasons were asleep in another bedroom a few feet away. That was it, that was all. If he didn't have his kids, he would've been out the door perhaps years ago. Not that he regretted his kids, he loved them with everything he had.

On the one hand, it killed him that Ash was hearing them argue more and more. He had to make peace with the mother of his children, for their sake.

On the other hand, he hadn't had sex with his wife in _months. _She was either already asleep by the time he would get back home, or the kids wouldn't go to sleep, or he was tired, or she was tired… there was always something. Besides, Chris was more than getting his fill elsewhere, and then some. Which made it harder and harder to coexist with Jessica as the days ticked away.

And it was only a matter of time before she started to question him more. He had dodged it tonight. But deep down he knew, he wouldn't be able to dodge it forever.

He looked over his shoulder at Ash who was sound asleep.

Lord, was he in deep over his head. He watched his son sleep for a moment, before slowly standing up. He quietly made his way out of the room, closing the door behind him, before heading back downstairs.

She was sitting on the sofa, a cup of ice water in her hand as she watched the news on their big screen TV. It was muted, and Chris took the moment to simply look at her. She was wearing her robe she had had since he met her, but she loved that thing and didn't care that it was so old. She looked very tired in that moment, and Chris felt a pang of guilt over what he was doing.

This was the mother of his kids, and the way he was treating her… he suddenly felt very ashamed.

Jessica didn't look at him as he sat down on the sofa next to her. They both stared at the TV screen quietly, Jessica sipping on her ice water as Chris pretended to be interested in the news cast.

"Looks like we're going to have some crazy weather this week," Chris said, breaking the uncomfortable silence first.

"Is Ash asleep?" she asked, ignoring what he had just said.

"Yeah," he answered. He paused for a moment, before continuing. "Jess… I'm sorry. This arguing, it's stupid you know, and it's starting to affect the kids and I don't want that."

"I don't want that either," she sighed, looking over at him. Her eyes had considerably softened, "It's just, sometimes I feel like we're not on the same page."

"Yeah," Chris said, practically tasting the guilt… or was that Stephanie he was still tasting? He pushed the visions of her out of his head. God, what was wrong with him? He was sitting with his wife, trying to smooth things over, at least a little bit, and he was picturing himself fucking another woman? He looked away, embarrassed to even look his wife in the eye. "Yeah, that's how I feel too," he mumbled, almost absent-mindedly as he tried to regain his focus.

"I don't know, it's like you've changed or something."

"I haven't."

Lies.

"We just miss you being around, you know, especially Ash… he's always saying he wants to travel with you. The girls miss you too, they ask for you… and I miss you too," she said, her voice softening.

"I know," Chris said, turning back to her. He leaned in towards her, and she leaned in as well. She was thinking kiss, he was thinking hug.

It was awkward. They both forced a laugh, but their laughter was empty.

"Let's go to bed, I'm beat," Chris said.

"Yeah, we should get some sleep, before the animals wake up," Jessica agreed, standing and stretching a little. He stood as well, and she offered him her hand. He immediately and instinctively took it as she led them upstairs. There were some things that were still natural to them, and this was just one of those things.

He shed his clothes while she took her robe off, leaving her in a tank top and shorts while he stripped to his boxers. They both climbed into bed, and she reached up to turn off the light. All natural things. Chris laid there with his back towards her, exhausted, when he felt her touch him. That was natural, even if he hadn't felt it in a long time.

He did, however, have to fight the urge to recoil from her touch. It was a brief and fleeting feeling that came over him, which he just chalked up to having grown accustomed to Stephanie's body over the last… who knows how long.

It was as unnatural as unnatural gets.

"Jess," Chris whispered, as her hand went slowly down his chest and stomach, going even lower. "It's late."

"Please, it's been so long," she whispered back. Chris closed his eyes and sighed, slowly turning around so he was facing her. She took his sigh as submission, a sign he liked the touching, a sign he wanted this too.

The clothes were gone shortly afterwards. There was no real anticipation, or foreplay. It was almost as if they just wanted to get it over with.

He gave her what she wanted, amazed he still had enough energy to go again. As long as she wanted, with whatever pace she wanted, he was there to fulfill her needs, and hopefully erase all her doubts. They of course didn't go buck wild with each other anymore, not with their kids just down the hall. He hoped it would be enough to at least ease her mind, if only for a little while.

Chris kept his eyes closed the whole time, letting her touch him, kissing her when he felt her bring him down to meet her lips. Having sex with his wife was a normal thing, he kept telling himself. They hadn't done it in such a long time, it was normal for her to want him.

But it just didn't have any fire or passion anymore. It was just routine, like an obligation he was fulfilling instead of something he wanted. Hell, if he hadn't been with Stephanie just hours earlier, he wouldn't be satisfied by this at all.

Chris fought the images, but they were slowly coming up.

Stephanie beneath him, her hair slightly dampened with sweat, out of breath as he ravaged her…

The way she would help him undress her, even lifting her hips so he could slide her panties down…

The way she would take control and the look she would get when she knew he was at her mercy…

The images put him more over the edge than his wife underneath him did. He collapsed next to her, catching his breath as she snuggled closer to him. He sighed, closing his eyes. He didn't feel satisfied. He felt dirty and guilty.

He couldn't live like this anymore, he decided right then. Something had to give, but he couldn't be having sex with his wife and picturing another woman. The thought disgusted him, but if he had a choice, he had to do the right thing and choose his family. He couldn't keep this up, it was making him slowly lose it.

He made his decision right then and there. He would have to cut Stephanie out of his life. For real this time, not like last time he made this decision, or the time before that. He would have to really and truly stop seeing her this time.

Of course, the only person Chris was fooling was himself.

The sad part was that he knew it too.


	3. Tonight

**A/N: I'm in a groove, so I'm rolling with it. Enjoy. :)**

**-~-**

_So I'll start to pretend I'm okay  
__But you should know by now that  
My life is smoke and mirrors_

_One thing is crystal clear__  
That I'm the one wishing I was someone else  
Anyone but me tonight…_

**Madina Lake: Here I Stand**

**-~-**

Her eyes were bleary and her head was pounding, but those were the souvenirs to an affair she had come to terms with years ago.

Stephanie eyed the large stack of papers in front of her before turning back to her laptop. There was so much work. So much to do, and she was so behind. She pulled her cup of coffee closer to her, not even knowing where to begin. All she wanted to do was crawl into her bed, or better yet, crawl under a rock somewhere where she could get away from her life for a while.

She glanced at the time on the bottom right of her laptop. 4:35 PM. The show was going to start in a few hours, and she was going to have to do her makeup for a brief promo at the top of the first hour. She couldn't possibly go out like she was right now: hair uncombed and just pulled back into a loose ponytail, dark sags around her eyes, her skin pale and fatigue etched into even the smallest of features on her face. No, she would take some time and transform into the on-screen character that the fans loved.

They would never see her like this.

She couldn't care less if her husband saw her like this though, which was good since he was sitting on the sofa in the same dressing room.

Paul's eyes looked up from the magazine he was reading when he heard his wife sigh heavily. His eyes stayed on her for a few moments, before he looked down and turned the page casually.

"Did you call your mom and ask how the kids --"

"Yes," she interrupted dryly, logging into her e-mail, her eyes not leaving her laptop. "They're fine."

"Oh…kay," Paul answered slowly, scowling a bit as he scrutinized his wife. "Maybe you should take a break from that work."

Stephanie just snorted. She was about to retort when she saw an e-mail sitting in her inbox. Her heart started to pound a little when she saw that it was from Chris Irvine Why was he e-mailing her? He hadn't e-mailed her in years. She moved her pointer over the link, but didn't click. She let it stay there for a little bit, before reaching for her cup of coffee.

"Stephanie."

"What?" Stephanie snapped, her husband startling her. She looked over to find him watching her intently. His hair was pulled back, and he looked surprisingly well-rested. He was as much of a workaholic as she was, but tonight, he looked refreshed and ready to work.

Jealousy shot through her. Of course he was well-rested. He wasn't hounded like she was by her father, and he didn't care to their daughters like she did. Sure, he was a good father, but he wasn't what you would call hands-on.

Of course, he was more rested than she was because he wasn't having an affair like she was.

As quickly as the jealousy came, it was replaced by guilt.

Was this what her life had become?

Mindless work.

Empty conversations.

Extramarital affairs…

"I think you need a vacation, you've been working way too hard lately," Paul suggested. Stephanie just looked at him for a few moments, the two silently making eye contact.

Ashamed and feeling like a dirty whore, she looked away. Back to her laptop screen. Back to the e-mail.

Back to Chris.

She clicked as Paul sighed and looked down at his magazine. She looked down at her hands briefly, shame creeping up her body. Closing her eyes, she cracked her neck, ridding herself of the thoughts.

Her husband didn't know, and so long as he didn't know, no one was going to get hurt. He wouldn't be hurt, and her kids wouldn't be hurt either by the inevitable divorce that would come should he find out about her indiscretions.

No complications, no drama.

She was going to do her best to keep it that way.

Opening her eyes, she took a deep breath and clicked on the link to the e-mail to see what Chris felt compelled to tell her…

_Can't do this to my family anymore. It's over. Sorry. _

_Chris_

Short. To the point.

She felt nothing.

Her life had somehow dwindled down over time to now solely revolve around her daughters, and she wasn't quite sure how, when, or why it happened. Aside from when she interacted with her daughters, the only time she ever felt alive anymore was with Chris.

Granted, her relationship with Chris wasn't what it used to be, but it was still a _relationship_. It wasn't a façade, an act put on for the public for appearances like her marriage was quickly dwindling down to. It was a private relationship, where she didn't have to hide how she felt or who she was. Chris accepted her needs, and he fulfilled them each and every time without bothering her with the morality of the situation.

Most of all, he made her feel _needed_. She couldn't remember the last time Paul had looked at her the way Chris did.

She read the e-mail again. Then she deleted it, knowing he would fail at his attempt to end their affair.

Just like he always did.

--

The show had ended hours ago, and Stephanie's eyes were aching from fatigue. She loved the wrestling business, but organizing each show was completely exhausting. She raised her hand to her forehead, leaning her elbow on her desk. Her temples were pounding, and against her will, unshed tears brimmed in her eyes. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her mind racing uncontrollably.

She needed to just _stay _in her office, finish her work, and then leave. Go back to the hotel and meet her husband. They could try to talk to each other; hell, they could even have sex. She couldn't remember the last time they had enjoyed each other's bodies, and tonight seemed like a good night to get back to old routines. Then tomorrow, they could leave together and go back to their home to see their daughters.

Like the married and faithful couple they were.

Yes, that is what she needed to do. Regaining her composure, Stephanie straightened and continued to type away on her laptop. She glanced over at the time, seeing that it was almost the moment when he would be expecting her.

_No, damn it, _she thought, willing herself to focus on her work. She frowned, scrolling through her e-mails. She bit her lip hard, her eyes intense as she concentrated on avoiding the timestamp on the taskbar.

Hell, he probably wasn't even _there. _After all, it was Chris who sent her that e-mail, like a coward. He couldn't even speak to her face to face. She scoffed, not noticing that she was angrily pounding on the keys as she replied to an e-mail. Why the hell should she go after him? Like she was some desperate slut or something. She winced, hating that the word was always creeping in her mind whenever she thought of Chris. She refused to believe she was a whore, but if an animal walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck…

Her chest tightened as she glanced at the time.

_This is fucking ridiculous, _she thought to herself. She didn't believe he was serious anyways. He had tried to break it off before, numerous times.

And each time, she never went back to him. She didn't want to appear desperate in his eyes, crawling back to him, practically begging him to give her a mercy fuck. It was completely beneath her. Lord only knew what he thought of her already. He probably had no respect for her at all, not as a wife, not as a person. Chris only respected her body, and she could simply never bring herself to try to talk him out of leaving her whenever he proposed doing so.

It didn't matter. Chris always came back.

But she knew that one day, he wouldn't. She just never knew when that day would be. She would never admit it to anyone, and could barely admit it to herself, but she was dreading that day.

Would this be the day he ended their affair for good?

_Who cares, _she thought, answering her own musing. She hoped that it was the end, because then her life would be easy. She wouldn't have to lie to her husband's face every single day. In fact, it was probably the _right _thing for him to do. Force her back into being a faithful wife, while he returned to his own wife and his children. Her shame would eventually disappear with enough time.

But so would the way he made her feel.

She closed her eyes, sighing deeply.

She stayed still for a long time, knowing that each second that passed was another step towards the end of her relationship with Chris. She didn't know if he was out in the darkened arena waiting for her or not. She didn't really want to know, for fear that he wasn't. Stephanie didn't dare go see for fear that he wouldn't be there. The rejection would be like the darkness that cloaked the arena; suffocating and completely intolerable.

It felt like hours later when she finally opened her eyes. She glanced at the time. 12:40 AM. 40 minutes past their usual meeting time. Not an e-mail, phone call, or text message from Chris.

She ignored the raging turmoil of hurt, shame, and disappointment that raced through her being down to her core. Why the hell should she care that he had decided to end their affair? After all, they couldn't just keep it going forever. It wasn't like he hadn't given her warning either.

The unshed tears surfaced again, and she blinked them away angrily.

She would not shed one tear over Chris Irvine. If she wasn't worth his time, then he sure as hell wasn't worth hers.

Five minutes later, Stephanie stood up and shut her laptop down. She couldn't bear being there any longer. Her thoughts were filled with turmoil, and she just needed sleep. She began gathering her things, when she heard a knock at the door.

"Yeah, I'm on my way out right now," she called out, opening her briefcase. She figured it was the last worker in the arena coming to kick her out.

The knock came again. Stephanie sighed, rolling her eyes. She scooped up her things messily, and carefully balanced everything as she walked to the door. She groaned at her laptop which still hadn't shut down. She could feel its heat from running for so long.

Stephanie shifted a few things in her arms, before freeing a hand to open the door.

"I'm leaving now," she breathed, shaking her head quickly to get some strands of hair in her face to move. "I just needed…" her voice trailed off.

Chris tilted his head, his blue eyes dark under his baseball cap. Stephanie's mind blanked at the smoldering fire that burned in his eyes as he gazed at her.

"You're late," he said quietly.

"You said you were done," she answered just as quietly. The way he was looking at her, like he needed to have her or he was going to combust on the spot, brought her senses to life. Paul had looked at her like that once upon a time, when she had fallen in love with him. But now it was Chris who was looking at her like that.

Only Chris.

Chris stepped into her dressing room, and she stepped back to let him enter. He closed the door behind him, and then locked it. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes going to the floor. His jaw was clenched tightly, and she saw the turmoil in his eyes.

"This is wrong," he finally said, breaking the heavy silence in the room. He shook his head slightly.

Stephanie nodded, not sure where he was going with this. Her chest tightened a little as she wondered if he had somehow sensed what she had been feeling earlier, and had come to tell her to her face that it was over.

Yes, of course. What else could it be? They never spoke to each other about what they were doing. As if speaking aloud of their sins would verify what they were doing, and make it more real somehow.

"Yeah," she agreed, looking away from him. She didn't think she could see the way he was looking at her and hear him reject her.

"We are hurting people… I am hurting my family," he said, his voice pained.

She could do nothing except nod while she thought of her own oblivious husband and her daughters at home.

"Yeah… I guess we're being irresponsible," Stephanie mumbled.

Suddenly, she felt him remove her laptop from her arms. He placed it on the sofa next to them while she looked at him suspiciously. Her heart was starting to race as he took her briefcase and the slew of paperwork from her arms, and placed everything on the sofa.

"Chris?"

He turned towards her, his eyes filled with desire. She let out a shaky breath as he closed the distance between them. He cupped her face, his eyes locked on hers.

"I don't want to be responsible tonight," he whispered.

She raised her chin a little, sighing as she gave in to him. His lips came down on hers fiercely.

And suddenly, she felt alive.

Desire and need coursed through them both as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Their tongues danced together, the heat building up deliciously. Chris wrapped an arm around Stephanie's waist, pulling her tightly against him. She could feel his arousal through their clothes and she moaned with desire.

He lifted her and before she knew it, they were against the door. Chris pressed his body against hers, lifting her so she could wrap her legs around him. She sucked on his bottom lip, biting and tugging on it gently. He groaned, before pulling away and lifting her blouse off in one motion. He then reached behind her head and tugged her pony tail off. Stephanie knocked his baseball cap off his head, before grasping his face in both hands and ravaging his mouth with her tongue.

He placed one of his hands firmly on her waist, his other hand groping her breasts. She moaned into his mouth and he felt his erection grow even more.

God, how did she keep doing this to him? He had sworn he wouldn't return to her, that he wouldn't do this again.

But here he was, pulling her pants down, desperate to have her again. Here he was, after arguing with himself for 45 minutes in a darkened arena to leave. Here he was, after summoning the strength to walk away, only to walk back to her office.

They both moaned into each other's mouths as he entered her.

And suddenly, the guilt and shame just didn't matter anymore.


	4. The truth

_In this farewell  
There's no blood  
There's no alibi  
Cause I've drawn regret  
From the truth of a thousand lies  
So let mercy come  
And wash away what I've done...  
_**Linkin Park: What I've Done**

--

When you fall into a vice, there is always a voice of reason over your shoulder that tells you to stop. The voice of reason pleads its case, and it is always a sane one that makes perfect sense. Most of the time, the voice of reason wins and you never fall into the trap. Maybe you experiment once or twice, and then the guilt and shame overwhelms you and you never do it again. Another life experience some would say. Another lesson to be learned from. But sometimes, it doesn't work out like that. Sometimes, the voice of reason doesn't win, and what started off as a forgivable mistake, momentarily lapse in judgment, or impulse to experiment quickly spirals out of control and becomes an addiction.

The first time Stephanie McMahon had allowed Chris Irvine to see her naked body and to do as he pleased with it, the voice was strong in her head. She had children, the voice argued. Paul was not a bad husband. He was there when she needed him, always trying his best to be a good husband and a good father. She was a married woman. Her behaviors were shameful. All valid points that left Stephanie feeling like she was drowning in shame the next morning.

But then it happened again.

And again.

And again…

And then slowly, over time, the voice began to fade away to silence. A fleeting moment of sanity and reason that would appear as soon as she gazed into his dark, lust-filled blue eyes. She would hesitate momentarily, but then her primal urges won over reason. Once she felt his warm touch, the voice disappeared and there was only Chris. His hands, his body, his heat. Now years later, the voice no longer haunted her, and for this she was thankful. It was as if the voice was her conscience, and it simply didn't care anymore.

Now Stephanie found herself sitting in her office, alone and trembling, with only one thought on her mind.

Why hadn't she listened?

Slowly, she took a deep breath, but it was shaky when she exhaled. Her hand visibly trembled as she turned the note over to read it again.

_The cat is out of the bag sweetheart. Jess is my friend. Stay away from him or she'll know the truth – and so will the rest of the world._

This couldn't be happening. This _could not be _happening. Not to her.

Not to her.

If she had only listened to that voice of reason… she clenched her fist, crumpling the note tightly as she contemplated what to do. Deep down though, she knew the truth. There was only one thing left to do, and it was something she should have done a long time ago.

She had to end it. She should have ended it before it even started so long ago. But could she? Could she actually do it?

She sighed deeply, before rising. Her bloodshot eyes looked down at the crumpled up note in her hand. Whether or not she could didn't really matter anymore. Whether or not she wanted to continue her affair with Chris didn't matter anymore either. The only thing that mattered is that someone else knew her deepest and darkest secret.

And that meant that she had no choice.

--

Chris felt the water running over his skin, his eyes closed, his face right under the shower in his private dressing room. The water was getting hot, too hot, almost burning, but he made no move to turn it down. He liked the heat, liked the steam that it created. It calmed him down, relaxed his muscles that were aching and hurting after his match. It took his mind off of things, especially that morning which had been particularly brutal with Jessica. One of his eyes twitched at the thought of his wife.

When had his life gotten so complicated?

There was a time, long ago it seemed, when he had been happy with his wife. They had their son, and things were fine. More than fine. He had been happy… and then, somehow, without rhyme or reason, things began to change.

His friendship with Stephanie began to change.

His marriage with Jessica began to change.

His entire life began to change.

He sighed, not wanting to think about how he had started seeing Stephanie McMahon of all people on the side. Methodically, he opened his eyes and poured out some shampoo for his hair. He scrubbed it onto his scalp, rubbing it into his hair, forcing his mind to be blank. He didn't want to remember. What good what it do anyways to remember the hows and whys? It wouldn't change anything now. It wasn't like she was forcing him to have sex with her. And it wasn't like it had only happened once or twice, when it could still potentially be a forgivable offense in his wife's eyes.

No, Chris had been seeing Stephanie on the side for _years. _He looked down, closing his eyes again as he let the water rinse all the shampoo out of his hair. He wasn't innocent in any of this, and he had no one to blame but himself for the guilt he felt.

Out of habit, he voided himself of all thought, going into his comfort zone where he allowed himself to feel no emotions at all. Nothing but blank numbness, where he didn't have to adhere to standards he could no longer reach. He didn't have to be the deadbeat husband who was fucking his boss's daughter on the side and stringing his wife along while being on the road over 300 days a year. He didn't have to be the _other man _ruining another marriage and potentially tearing another family apart. He didn't have to be the super dad with incredible expectations that he always feared he wasn't meeting.

He didn't have to be anyone when he went into this zone.

Here, he was just a guy. A guy who breathed, and who had a heartbeat.

Nothing more.

"Chris?"

His eyes slowly opened at the sound of her voice. Was he daydreaming it? Narrowing his eyes, he pulled back the curtain and leaned out a little bit.

"Stephanie?" he called out, confused. Normally, if they needed to talk during the show, she would send someone to come find him and he would go to her office. There they would talk about his promo for the night or perhaps about the direction for his character. Small, business chit chat. Always straight to the point. Never any diverging into personal and family life. Rarely was there any joking around. Those were the only conversations he had with her, and even those did not come often. Now to have her in his dressing room without any type of warning was strange. She hadn't dropped by like this in years and he suddenly felt very uneasy.

"Chris," he heard her voice right outside of the door leading to the bathroom. "When you're done taking a shower, come to my office. We have to talk."

"I can't," he called out over the water. "I have to meet up with Jess tonight and I'm already running late. Sorry, I don't think I have the time tonight."

"I'm sorry, I don't believe I asked you for an opinion," Stephanie replied dryly. "I'm not asking you, Chris, I'm telling you. Finish up, get dressed, and come to my office. _Now_."

Chris frowned, straightening and pulling the curtain forward again, not bothering to reply. That was okay though because Stephanie wasn't bothering to wait for a reply. Chris was lowering his head under the water again when he heard the door to his dressing room opening and closing as Stephanie left. He let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding when he heard the sound, his feeling of unease now spreading through his body. His mind was racing against his will, his comfort zone out of reach as he tried to think of what was going on.

Was she ending them? Was she pregnant? Were one of her children his? Or both of them? Was she leaving Paul? Was it all of the above? His mouth ran dry at all of these questions.

He stayed in that position for another minute, before finally turning the water down.

There was only way to find out.

--

Chris hesitated outside of Stephanie's door, and he wasn't sure exactly why that was. He swallowed heavily, glancing down at his watch. Yes, he was going to be very late in meeting up with Jessica that night. They were going to see a midnight premiere of whatever movie his wife had decided was worth seeing at midnight. He was fairly certain she wasn't interested in the actual movie and just wanted to make amends after one of his twin girls had walked in on her calling him a worthless father. A muscle flexed near his jaw as he remembered his anger. He forced the feeling aside, figuring he might as well get this over with.

He raised a hand, his fist ready to knock on her office door when it suddenly opened before he got the chance. Chris blinked in surprise, before being met with a pair of very indifferent eyes.

"Irvine," Paul muttered gruffly.

"Paul," Chris replied evenly. The tension between them was palpable as Paul gave Chris a hostile glare while Chris stared back.

"Good, glad you're here, Chris," Stephanie said in that professional tone, ignoring the fact that the two men in her life were silently giving each other looks that could kill. Chris shifted a bit to look over at her past Paul, and they briefly made eye contact. "Come on in. See you later, Paul."

"I'll see you back at the hotel," Paul called over his shoulder to his wife, before walking out of the room altogether. He didn't try to avoid contact with Chris, perhaps even seeking it out as his shoulder shoved the smaller man back as he exited. Chris scowled deeply but chose to let it roll off his back like he usually did. He had so many problems to deal with, that he had stopped trying to figure out Paul's hatred for him a long time ago.

Especially since he had now given the man a very legit reason to hate him, even though he could never know about that.

Stephanie glanced up at Chris briefly before looking back down and scribbling something down furiously. "Come in and close the door."

Chris silently obeyed, before looking at his watch. "I'm pretty sure everyone who hasn't already bolted for the doors is getting ready to leave. I doubt anyone will be stopping in to see you this late." Stephanie just ignored him though and he sighed, walking up to her desk and taking a seat in a chair across the desk from her. "Steph, is this going to take a long time?" he asked, trying not to let her know how anxious he felt. If she was going to drop bad news on him then he wanted it done as soon as possible.

"Just give me one second," she said mechanically, no emotion in her voice as she kept her eyes down.

Chris looked to the side so as not to stare at her, but he could tell that she hadn't been sleeping well in days. Of course, he could tell that when they had their nightly rendezvous, but it was much easier to ignore then. He could close his eyes, let his mouth and his hands see for him, give in to her and not study her appearance while hoping she didn't study his. Here though, there was no getting around it.

"I just don't want to hear her bitching at me for being so late," he said, breaking the awkward silence. Stephanie shot a quick look up at him, but he was looking off to the side. Normally, without insatiable lust making his eyes a smoldering dark burning blue, his eyes were a light and clear blue, eyes that shined instead of burned.

But tonight, his eyes were doing neither. They were focused on another time, or maybe another place. She could see that on this night they were a clouded blue, and she knew that he was off in another world. Judging from his rather gruff appearance, it looked like he also hadn't gotten much sleep if the rings under his eyes were any indication. Stephanie shook her head and looked down as he turned to look back at her.

"So are you going to tell me why you called me in here?" he asked, his question neither pressing nor indifferent as his eyes scrutinized her. She swallowed heavily and tapped her pen on her desk rhythmically as she thought of how to ask the question that was weighing on her mind. Chris frowned but waited patiently, even though something inside of him was tightening with every second that she hesitated.

Finally, she decided that being blunt would be the best course of option.

"Have you told anyone about… what's going on between us?" she asked quietly.

Chris tensed at the question. "No." They stared at each other, questions dancing in both of their eyes. He frowned and voiced one of his, "Have you?"

"No. But someone knows."

Stephanie slid over a small note across her desk that had been once been crumpled but was now straightened out. She watched as he took it and studied him as he lowered his head to read it. His eyebrows furrowed as he fell deep into thought.

"I see," he finally said, his tone emotionless. He kept his head down but his eyes flickered up to hers. They were no longer clouded. He was focused now, his eyes a stormy blue as he tried to make sense of it all. "Where did you get this?"

"I left to go speak to Shane about a segment on the show that he was responsible for. I came back and it was on my desk," she said matter-of-factly.

He frowned deeply, looking off to the side, his mind racing. "She has a lot of friends here," he said thoughtfully.

"It doesn't matter," Stephanie said indifferently. His eyes immediately locked with hers. He narrowed them, silently responding to her statement. She cleared her throat and clarified, "What I mean is that someone knows."

"It's a baseless threat," Chris replied.

"We can't take the chance," Stephanie said, her voice low. "It can't go on anymore, Chris."

"No one is going to say anything," he said in a forceful voice. Stephanie sighed and looked off to the side, feeling his eyes on her. "For someone to open their mouths and tell the world what's going on, they'd be risking their career. Who is going to do that for Jessica?" he asked, as if the mere idea was absurd.

"Someone knows!" Stephanie snapped. "Chris, if word of this gets out, it'll ruin us both. You know it will."

Chris scoffed at that. "People in the business get caught doing this all the time. If we were caught and word spread, we could capitalize on it and turn it into an angle. Big deal," he shrugged.

"I didn't mean professionally." He looked away at that, not responding, his face set in stone. Stephanie looked at him for a while, and something inside of her started to ache. She reached out and placed a hand over his, and saw him visibly tense. She let her hand linger before slowly moving it down and pulling the note out from under his fingertips. "And I don't know about you and Jessica and your kids, how you feel about that, but I know that I don't want the drama in my family. I don't want to put that strain on them."

He remained silent. She silently willed him to look at her, but he kept his eyes away. A muscle flexed near his jaw as he slowly nodded.

"It's over then. For real this time."

"Yeah," Stephanie said, pulling the crumpled note to her. She looked down at it, wondering what she could say. She was supposed to say something grand here. The truth was all she had though, and it didn't seem that grand. "It was wrong anyways, Chris."

He stood up then, before seeming to dust himself down, even though there was no dust around. Perhaps it was a symbolic gesture that he was ridding himself of her. Or perhaps he needed to do something to hide the fact that his hands had a slight tremor to them. She noticed this, but said nothing as he cleared his throat, still avoiding eye contact with her. "That's fine, then. Is there anything else? I was supposed to meet my wife and now I'm running late."

It seemed as though the truth was all he had too. She knew she was being foolish, but for some reason, hearing him say those words seemed to finalize everything and that made her heart hurt. She nodded, forcing herself to speak. "That's all. You can go."

Her words were hardly out of her mouth and he was already walking out of the room. The door closed behind him without a look back. Stephanie looked at the door for a while, before feeling her spirit slowly dwindle down as she looked down at her work. She felt completely deflated.

He was gone now.

It was really over.


End file.
